Unexpected Assistance
by CynthiaW
Summary: Summary: After a case, Aaron Hotchner has an encounter that no one would expect.


Unexpected Assistance

Summary: After a case, Aaron Hotchner has an encounter that no one would expect.

Disclaimer: I do not own either _Criminal Minds_ or _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_.

A/N: This takes place before Hotch's girlfriend Beth moves to NYC. Also, I am going by the reboot TMNT movie for my descriptions.

New York, NY

Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was walking to the hotel his team was staying in for this case. The case had been closed, but the Behavioral Analysis Unit had a difficult time catching this un-sub (unknown subject). Hotch had it pretty rough, so when the rest of the team went out to celebrate the successful conclusion of the case, he declined to join them. He was more interested in getting some sleep before the return trip to Quantico, VA.

The streets were pretty empty, even for this time of night. The precinct they had been helping out had assured them that the neighborhood was safe, with a low crime rate, so walking alone at night came with few risks. Even so, being aware of his surroundings was second nature to the experienced FBI agent.

As he passed a closed newsstand that was wide enough to significantly narrow the sidewalk, Hotch almost missed the young man who brushed against his right arm in passing. The feel of a hand going into his back pocket made him stop, however, and his own hand shot out to grab the wrist of the pickpocket.

Forcing the other man's hand to release his wallet, Hotch spun around and glared at the would-be thief. "I hope you have a good explanation for trying to rob me. Because you're coming with me to the police station."

The younger man was clearly panicked by the prospect. "Look, mister, I don't know what you're talking about. All I did was walk by you. At worst, I brushed against you. It's not _my_ fault you took up the whole sidewalk!" He tried to pull out of Hotch's grip, but the agent's hand wouldn't budge.

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "I felt a hand in my pocket, and when I grabbed the hand, it was yours. Shall we try that again?"

The pickpocket was very unhappy at his mark's persistence. "Look, I swear I never touched your wallet."

At this point, Hotch was so focused on the young thief that he failed to notice anyone else on the street until strong arms yanked him away from the pickpocket. His arms pinned behind him, he was unable to defend himself as a third man suddenly loomed over him right before punching him hard in the stomach.

The agent nearly doubled over in pain; the man holding him was all that kept him from collapsing onto the sidewalk. His captor yanked him upright, as Hotch's assailant leered at him. "You're goin' to pay for touchin' my pal, mister."

Hotch struggled against the arms holding him, but he couldn't break free. He considered trying an implied threat of jail time for assaulting a federal agent, but the entire situation quite suddenly went in an unexpected direction.

His captor's grip loosened in shock as a glint of metal in the lamplight preceded the sound of glass shattering. The lamp quite suddenly went out, plunging that section of street into darkness. Hotch quickly took advantage of the thugs' distraction, yanking his arms free and watching them closely in the dim light, ready for anything.

A thick Brooklyn accent was heard coming from just beyond the pickpocket. "You punks are in for a world 'a trouble. If it wasn't bad enough that ya keep goin' after little old ladies for fun, ya suddenly have the _chutzpah_ ta go after a guy carryin' not one, but _two_ loaded guns."

At this, Hotch froze. His sidearm was standard for all agents, and was obvious to anyone paying attention. The ankle holster was a spare he carried just in case, and was only noticeable if you knew what to look for.

The voice continued, "And ya don't even have the decency to face him in a fair fight, either; ya have to hold him still to pound on him, like a common bully.

"Well, I had enough of you. I might just be nice and let you punks off with a warning, if ya walk away right now. But you only have five seconds to make up yer minds."

The three thugs looked at one another for a brief moment, before spreading out to find the person who had just threatened them. It didn't take long for the stranger to come out of the shadows, but he didn't stay still long enough for the thugs to even _try_ to hit him. All Hotch could see of his rescuer was light reflecting off the surface of a large, partially painted shell.

It was all over in thirty seconds. You couldn't even call it a fight, as the street thugs were taken down too fast to offer any resistance. Pretty soon, the mysterious stranger was tying up the thugs with rope. Hotch could now see that his rescuer was nearly six feet tall, and proportionately broad. He couldn't be certain in the near darkness, but it looked like the stranger had a large turtle shell on his back. Why anyone would carry something so cumbersome, he didn't know. But the guy seemed to have practiced hard to make sure it wouldn't slow him down in a fight.

Cautiously, Aaron approached the stranger, who whirled around at his footsteps while somehow keeping his head lowered so his face wasn't visible. The agent carefully raised his arms to show he was unarmed. "I just wanted to thank you for stopping to help. I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to do before your timely arrival."

The stranger nodded in acknowledgment. " I keep an eye on these punks. They don't usually come here, but I see 'em around the area. Why'd they pick you to go after? You're not exactly an easy mark."

Hotch shrugged. "I suppose I stood out as someone from out of town. That pickpocket," he nodded towards the smallest of the three thugs, "obviously didn't expect me to be aware of him lifting my wallet. His friends saw me stop him and came to his rescue."

Another nod, and then another voice could be heard coming from a nearby sewer vent. "Yo, come on, Raph! Sensei's gonna be done with his meditation any time, now!" This one sounded exasperated.

'Raph' sighed. "Keep your shell on, Mikey! I'll be right there!" He turned to go, then looked back at Hotch. "Just keep me out of this, okay?"

Hotch cocked his head. "I'll see what I can do, but I'll have to tell them something."

As he faded into the shadows, 'Raph' suggested, "I'm a concerned citizen. That's all ya need to know."

Hotch chuckled at that. Obviously, this 'Raph' and his friend in the sewer, 'Mikey,' had snuck out behind their guardian's back. Not wanting to be found out, they preferred to remain anonymous if they happened to help anyone. Teenagers were interesting, to be sure. Few had the social responsibility to do what these two had decided to do.

As he pulled out his cell phone to call the police for a couple of squad cars, he recalled the martial arts moves 'Raph' had used. He would have to locate a book on martial arts to identify the style. From the little he had seen, the unusual combination of moves had a distinctly Asian style, but one he was unfamiliar with; but then again, he wasn't sure what exactly he _had_ seen.


End file.
